


Prickly Affair

by radishleaf



Series: The Fool, Reversed - Ezra Oneshots [5]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon, Spoilers, as does my equally thotty fan apprentice, he's just that type of dude, like seventy percent of this is banter because ezra is the incarnation of Sass, thot lucio strikes again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 21:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19776646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radishleaf/pseuds/radishleaf
Summary: When an outlet for his week-old carnal desires is presented before him, Lucio happily takes what Ezra has to offer.





	Prickly Affair

**Author's Note:**

> they're thots, the lot of them. 
> 
> anyway, i just had to follow up my apprentice/lucio fic with an actual porn fic. this takes place right after the ending scene of ch 3 of 'prickly business,' but you needn't have read it to get the gist of this. it wasn't included in the fic because i thought it messed with the flow, so enjoy it here if you happen to give this a read.
> 
> as always, kindly disregard any grammatical errors, punctuation mistakes, and the like. i tried to be thorough. enjooooy.

Lucio’s hands roamed his body with restless abandon as if trying to define his shape in the dark. It was as satisfying as it was dissatisfying; the only telltale sign of pleasure between the two of them the hard press of the count’s loins against his thigh. If Ezra shifted just a little, he could continue to teasingly grind against it, but Lucio was an impatient man; once the magician had tempted his wiles, he only wanted to take, and take, and take. Admittedly, Ezra’s head was swimming with the same heady desire, but he nipped it in the bud before it blossomed. After all, one of them had to remain in control before both of them lost it completely.

Lucio exhaled sharply, a combination of frustration and mounting dissatisfaction. “Damn it, I can’t see a thing,” he said. Ezra could barely discern him waving his hand about. “Can’t you summon that, that orb thing again? I need _light_.”

“You don’t need to really _see_ things, Count Lucio, just _feel_ them. Isn’t that the basics of sex?”

“To _you_. There’s some joy in wanting to see you squirm beneath me.”

“Then I shouldn’t give you that opportunity. I’d be on the losing end.”

Lucio harrumphed. “Can you really count victories at a time like this?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ezra frowned at the pearly shine of Lucio’s smile in the dark. “Aren’t we _both_ winning right now?”

“This is a neutral agreement, Count Lucio. There are no winners or losers.”

“Well, _whatever_. Light, please! I, at least, want to see what I’m doing. Stop being stubborn about it. Come on.”

The magician rolled his eyes, but did as he was told—initially. Ezra rose his hand and summoned another globe of light, but it suddenly burst in a blinding expansion, consuming the entirety of the count’s chambers in blaring white. Lucio jerked back, hastily shielding his eyes with his prosthetic arm as Ezra winced away. He knew he was letting stubbornness get the better of him, but if Lucio demanded light, then light there shall be. It aided Ezra in one fashion: There was an upended lantern on the bedside table that he could utilize in a moment. Best to toy with Lucio just a second more.

Lucio waved his hand about before grabbing at Ezra’s thigh and shakily begging him to stop. “C-cut it! Cut the light!” he cried. “I can’t take it anymore!”

The globe of light fizzled away with a pop, leaving colors to dance before his eyes in the dark. “You asked for it,” Ezra said.

“I know I did, but that _wasn’t_ what I had in mind! Why do you have to make things so difficult?”

“If it wasn’t clear, Count Lucio,” Ezra said as he removed his glasses and placed it on the bedside table, “I’m a difficult person.”

Ezra bent away from the count to pick up the lantern. He snapped his fingers, producing a small flame on his forefinger that he used to light the wick. Once it caught, Ezra kept the flame low; the reservoir’s oil had spilled from previous happenings, leaving only the residual soaked into the wick. It was difficult to estimate just how long they’d have light, meaning there was to be some haste to their sex. Not that Ezra thought Lucio would have it any other way; the dancing flame caught the silver glint of his eye—signaling his delight.

“That’s more like it,” the count said. “I didn’t even know that was there.”

“I’m content to think you don’t know anything at all, Count Lucio,” Ezra said as he bent forward. “Things are better that way.”

Whatever whine or retort Lucio had for him was silenced when Ezra slid lips over his. At once, all of the rigidness in the magician’s being dissipated; the warm pliancy of his kiss to Lucio melting him against the body beneath him. There was a great number of things he disliked about the count, but if there was one thing he couldn’t deny, he was a damn good kisser. He neither forced things nor lingered, creating a flow that the magician quickly got swept up in.

Lucio’s hands never rose higher than Ezra’s waist; trading from kneading his hips to his thighs are if signaling where he wanted to touch next. Ezra promptly denied him the prospect; preferring to remain kissing, drawing it out by combing fingers through Lucio’s already unkempt locks. Even if wanting to hurry things, the count purred delightedly. Ezra thought it a warm sound, before mentally rebuking himself for finding anything about Lucio pleasing.

“Must you make me wait?” Lucio muttered against his lips. “We’re aren’t even to the best part yet.”

“Patience, Count Lucio. I don’t like to rush things.”

“Well, I do,” Lucio said as he insistently rolled Ezra onto his back. “Rough and rushed—it’s the best kind of sex.”

“No wonder you go through so many affairs.”

Lucio laughed. “Did Noddy tell you that?”

“Your wife is worryingly up-to-date on when and who you have sex with.”

“That’s just like her,” Lucio said as he popped open the buttons of Ezra’s jacket. “She’s keeping tabs, but only for her own benefit. Many would watch the world burn if it meant the count and countess were caught in the flame.”

Ezra harrumphed. “The only flame you should be worried about is the one in that lantern there.”

“Yes, yes,” Lucio said as Ezra shrugged his jacket off, rising to kiss him again. “You talk a lot of shit, but you’re equally impatient, even if you won’t admit it.”

Despite the implications and mocking smile he shot the magician’s way, Lucio was surprisingly gentle; a vivid contrast to the man begging for things just a moment earlier. He undressed Ezra down to his underthings with practiced ease, before unceremoniously tossing each article of clothing over his shoulder and into the darkness. Ezra’s furrowed brow voiced all of the curses he couldn’t say, but Lucio only laughed at his expression, and kissed him again.

Though rougher and insistent with the tangle of tongues leaving Ezra breathless, Lucio soothed the last remaining vestiges of tension in the magician’s body by gliding his hand down his chest and to his spine. There, his fingers traced the outline of bone beneath skin, sending a delicious tremble down Ezra’s back.

He hooked arms about the count’s neck, a small whimper leaving him, as his mind swam from the sensation. Ezra only returned to himself when Lucio pulled back, his face smug. Yet, not a hint of his smarminess remained, as if relinquishing his attitude to finally get what he wanted. The change of heart was appreciated, even if Ezra would never give him the satisfaction of telling him it was.

Ezra’s hand, once caught about the wrist of Lucio’s prosthetic arm, suddenly glided along the veiny workings that kept it together and functional. The magician’s attention was taken by it for a moment. Though the situation didn’t call for it, he still desperately wanted to study it. Its gilt gaudiness was the only touch of Lucio in its craftsmanship; the rest could only be attributed to the intelligence of a genius—or geniuses. The magic that ran through it, simulating human warmth, was strangely familiar.

 _It reminds me of Asra_ , Ezra thought.

He scooped Lucio’s hand in his own and cupped it to his cheek, reveling in the heated touch. His eyes fluttered shut as he sought the comforting thoughts of the other magician, wondering if he’d eaten or if he was busy or if he’d thought to rest during his journey. If Ezra’s body yearned for the touch of Lucio, his heart throbbed to be someplace else—back in his shop, napping soundly at the kitchen table, as Asra kept vigil over a bubbling cauldron of stew.

“You’ve gone quiet,” Lucio said, pulling Ezra away from that forgone fantasy. “Is something wrong?”

“N-no,” Ezra replied. “Though, does it even matter to you? You only care about what _you_ want.”

Lucio thinned his lips. “If you don’t want to continue, you can say so,” he said.

“Don’t try and act human now, Count Lucio. It’s unbecoming.”

“Hmph. What kind of man do you take me for?”

“An incorrigible one.”

“Yes, yes,” Lucio said, taking this as a sign to continue. He nosed the underside of Ezra’s jaw, drawing a pleased hum out of him. “But not an abusive one—I don’t force things on my bed partners.”

“Just, mm, include them in unfortunate situations—like illegally buying ownership of their home—to get what you want?”

“Again, not abusive. Only crafty.”

“Call it whatever you want, Count Lucio.”

Lucio peppered Ezra’s neck with kisses, taking extra delight in catching the tender skin between his teeth, before nipping down the length of his chest. Ezra keened the lower Lucio drifted, before he lingered in the frame of his legs, considering the erect lump straining against the cloth of the magician’s underwear. The count gave it an experimental blow of air, delighting in the small ‘ah’ that left Ezra as it throbbed for touch.

Lucio’s fingers teasingly slid under the waistband of Ezra’s underwear as his lips did his inner thigh, coming to a rest in the hollow where leg met hip. He sunk his teeth into the joint, drawing a choked moan from Ezra at the pleasure-pain as the count laved his tongue over the depression marks. It was clear Ezra was getting his comeuppance; his previous teasing returned to him, albeit tenfold.

“ _Mm_ , Count Lucio…”

“What? Nothing else more to say?” Lucio peeled the magician’s underwear off, freeing his cock with a spring as it caught on the fabric. Ezra gulped back a moan, clapping his legs shut.

“There’s nothing more I can think of _to_ say.”

“How unfortunate. You’re more fun when you’re giving me lip service.” He grinned. “Though I can think of something else we can put that mouth of yours to.”

Ezra shot him a hooded look. “That can be arranged.”

Lucio swallowed thickly, the temptation palpable on his face. “M-maybe when we’re together again,” he said. “We’re still pressed for time, remember?”

Gliding his hand under Ezra’s thigh, he coaxed his legs open again. He did so tentatively. Whatever added jab Lucio had for Ezra died on his tongue as his silver eyes lingered on his nakedness, a small tinge of heat dusting across his cheeks. Ezra threw an arm over his eyes, unable to meet the count’s gaze.

“ _Damn_ ,” Lucio breathed, “y-you’re—wow. _Wow_.”

“Are, are you just going to stare?”

The corner of Lucio’s lips quirked up. “Just burning your image into memory,” he said as he leaned forward. “Got to remember what good taste I have.”

Ezra frowned. “What are— _hah!_ ”

The magician let out a guttural moan as Lucio ran his tongue over the bit of cum pearled on Ezra’s cock. Immediately, Ezra went rigid; all of his focus on the talented workings of Lucio between his legs. Frustration and satisfaction mixed with guilt and delight in Ezra’s lower belly; stirred every time the count’s head bobbed down over his length. Soon, the familiar coil of release began to build in Ezra, making his back arch off the bed as Lucio upkept his service.

“ _Ungh_ , Count Lucio—Lucio, wait—I, I—”

The count gave Ezra a single glance before ripping his mouth away. To be deprived of pleasure so suddenly had the magician, much to his chagrin, squirming against the sheets as he tried to ride out his nearing orgasm. He knew Lucio looked down at him with bubbling amusement, but he dare not open his eyes to him. It was the one satisfaction he would deny the count.

But Lucio was distracted, having leaned away from Ezra to woggle around in the drawer of the bedside table. Ezra peeked to watch him frustratingly pick up and put down several elaborate phials of oil, each clinking against each other. The magician snorted from a repressed laugh in the crook of his arm, earning him a glare from Lucio.

“Just give me a moment,” he said. “It’s, hm, it’s one of these. I’m just not sure which one.”

“You actually keep a collection?” Ezra said. “One for every single special occasion?”

“Something like that.” The count produced an olive-colored bottle. “Ah, here we are.”

“Hmm. How pitiful it is the count of Vesuvia is more prepared for sex and not his own city-state.”

“Shush,” Lucio hissed as he poured a generous amount of the oil onto his fingers. “I’m not done with you yet. Don’t start something now.”

Ezra remained quiet, as instructed, if only because they had finally progressed to the stage he yearned for. Lucio smoothed his fingers into the cleft of Ezra’s ass, smearing oil onto the puckered orifice. The magician’s teeth clenched as Lucio massaged it, before gingerly prodding a finger in. Initial insertion was always a strange sensation, but intimate; a moment Ezra felt wrong to share with the count. This all fell to the wayside, however, when Lucio began to work his finger insistently.

“Hah, _mn_ , Count Lucio…”

“How long has it been since you’ve done anything? You’re tight.”

Ezra exhaled through his teeth. “Some time… I tried to prepare myself beforehand.”

Lucio’s brows shot up. “Really?” he said, approval tugging at his lips. “You had all of this planned?”

“You’re just realizing, mm, this now?”

“I had an inkling.”

“And you call me slow on the uptake.”

“ _Shush_.”

A second finger wriggled in beside Lucio’s first, now pumping in and out of Ezra. His thoughts stymied as those clever fingers coaxed him toward completion, hitting that small coin-sized spot within, only to withdraw in the next instance. It was frustrating, more so than dealing with the count, to be toyed with like so. Ezra honestly couldn’t take it anymore. His hand shot out and caught Lucio’s forearm, stilling him as he quizzically studied the magician’s pleading face.

“E-enough,” Ezra said. “Just put it in already.”

“But I’m not—”

“Just do it, Lucio. _I can’t hold back anymore_.”

Lucio didn’t need to be told twice. He slathered a thick coating of oil on his cock before shifting forward in place. Ezra threw his head back on the pillow and considered the ceiling, trying to adjust to the biting sensation of being entered. It hurt beyond reason, despite how careful Lucio was being. The count wasn’t generously large, far more average (even if he would’ve taken offense to be described thus), but it still felt like forever until Ezra was filled. Once he was, a ragged breath left the two of them.

Lucio caught a moan from Ezra in a kiss as he gave an experimental thrust. The magician broke it to give a slightly pained grunt, arms clamping behind the count’s back as he did it again and again. It took some time to set a pace; Ezra’s impatience and inability to adjust making it difficult to do so. However, efforts settled them into something comfortable. Lucio’s rhythmic thrust matched with Ezra’s gyrating hips; pleasure given matched with pleasure taken. The count had shut his eyes, lost to the heat that enveloped his cock, while Ezra tried in vain again and again to have the head hit that one particular spot.

As orgasm built up within him, Ezra’s hand reached to forward to pleasure himself, but Lucio caught him first. He began to pump Ezra’s cock in tandem with his thrusts, drawing loud, choked moans out of him. Lucio’s speed was now frenzied as he also tried to draw out his own mounting need for release. It was Ezra who came first, splattering strings of white between their bellies. His orgasming moan was caught as he bit a finger, replaced by Lucio’s stunted groan as he released into Ezra.

Slicked with sweat, Lucio dropped onto Ezra wordlessly. At once, the magician wanted to push Lucio off; he was as heavy as four sacks of potatoes, but refused knowing the count would just whine. It would be a beat before they settled into the post-coital afterglow, mostly on Lucio’s end as he laid himself in beside a stiff Ezra.

The knot wound tight in the magician’s chest had unraveled. He felt both refreshed and restored, even if those dark regrets from earlier still hung like an albatross about his neck. Over the course of the last week, Ezra had tried to reason with himself that sex was simply that—just sex. Sleeping with the count proved there was nothing there; he was only fulfilling a needed exchange and slight interest. Yet, what lingered there was far worse: Even if his interest in Lucio was dubious, the sex was good. _Too_ good.

When he thought it proper to speak, Lucio waggled his eyebrows, and asked, “Better than you thought, wasn’t it?”

“It went as much as I expected.”

“And those expectations were…?”

Ezra eyed him. “I’m not going to give you the satisfaction of details, Count Lucio.”

The count visibly pouted. “And why not?”

“Because you’ll just hold them against me.”

Lucio bounced a little. “So, so it was good!” he said, astonished, before his lips curled in a devilish smile. “I should’ve known. When you dropped my title and begged—”

“I did _not_ beg.”

“When you _begged_ for it, I knew you wanted it badly. You’re lascivious beneath that prickly exterior, aren’t you?”

Ezra turned away. “Do you even know what “lascivious” means?”

“Ah”—Lucio furrowed his brow, mentally combing his brain—“well, uh, w-whatever. Who _cares_ what it means? It’s what you are!”

Ezra harrumphed. “Keep talking like that and I won’t allow round two.”

Lucio prepared to keep dragging out his previous claim until the meaning of Ezra’s words hung in the air. “Wait, what?” he said. “You mean that?” The count clambered over to the magician’s side, looming over him. “You actually want to go again?”

Giving in was an overarching frustration when his stubbornness was showing. Ezra pushed it down to reach up and thumb the corner of the count’s cheek. “I told you: I’m a difficult person,” he said. “I never said once was enough for me.”

“Then, we should really hurry this time,” Lucio said, leaning in once more, “the lantern is almost out.”

“Mm, we should,” Ezra purred. “Can’t take the time to savor the moment.”


End file.
